


one zero one (AUTOMATIC)

by myu_gao



Category: MewGulf - Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong, เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV), เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Frottage, Gulf Kanawut is a Brat, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Tie Kink, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27800578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myu_gao/pseuds/myu_gao
Summary: Bratty soccer player Gulf Kanawut and tie-loving businessman Mew Suppasit meet for the first time. Things ensue.
Relationships: Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong
Comments: 29
Kudos: 239





	one zero one (AUTOMATIC)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mirror_ball](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirror_ball/gifts).



This man - there is something very different about this man. Gulf can’t quite put his finger on it, but he just knows. Maybe it’s something about the full set of office wear - the pressed suit, the white button-up. With the tie and all. Maybe it’s the chiselled jawline, or the perfectly shaped eyes. Maybe it’s the delicately coiffed hair, the kind that Gulf wants to run his hands through until it becomes messy.

Gulf doesn’t normally go home with men - in a society where heteronormativity is rife, he’s usually preferred to avoid questioning from his friends and coworkers, though he has an inkling that they know much more than they ever let on. Either way, Gulf’s only ever taken one or two guys back home, and that’s only if they ticked all the boxes on his nonexistent checklist (though it’s the vibes that really matter, as Gulf always likes to say).

And this man - this man is everything Gulf has been looking for. He doesn’t know how he knows. He just does. Gulf takes another sip of his drink before he looks back. Out of the corner of his eye, of course. He’s trying to be subtle, here.

The man’s laughing with his friends, and if Gulf really perks his ears, he can hear the faintest bit of it, a throaty chuckle. His posture is perfect even in this cramped little bar, presumably after a long day of work. Gulf’s eyes roam over the lines of his body, almost in awe. Gulf gets a sense that if he walked up close to this man, he still wouldn't be able to notice a single flaw.

And above it all, he has an air of composure that doesn’t hide the power hiding underneath. That’s the reason he can’t take his eyes off him, Gulf tells himself, watching mesmerized as the man shimmies the coat off his broad frame, revealing a surprisingly wide set of shoulders. Then a strong pair of biceps, so muscled they fill up the entirety of the shirt sleeves. Then, starting from his forearms and trailing downwards, a delicious network of veins tracing prominently along down to his delicately tapered fingers.

Gulf’s breath hitches. His eyes irresistibly dart back to the man’s face to find a pair of dark eyes staring back at him, almost curiously. He looks away quickly, cheeks red.  _ Fuck. _

* * *

Throughout the night, Mew's been feeling a persistent gaze on him. And here's the thing: he knows exactly who's watching him - the young-looking man on the other end of the bar must think he's subtle, but the way he snaps his head to the left for the nth time when he feels Mew staring back at him? A little too conspicuous.

Mew's not ashamed to say he receives a lot of attention, especially in this kind of scene on a Friday night, when most people are looking to let loose and maybe get in a good lay before enjoying a relaxed weekend. But the thing is, he doesn’t usually reciprocate that attention - he’s never really been that type of guy. He’s a self-proclaimed “one heart one love” kind of man after all, a statement all his past lovers would attest to. So usually, in these nights, Mew basks in the side-stares, the flirty winks - he’s never going to say no to a bit of attention.

And though Mew’s nearing thirty, he knows that he doesn’t look it. More importantly, he looks good, perhaps even better than he had in his early twenties - as one of his past lovers had said, he ages like fine wine. Mew's still in the same clothes he wears to the office everyday - pressed suit and tie, his Rolex watch, and a few rings on either hand. Except now the first three buttons of his shirt are undone, his hair artfully tousled in a way that looks almost styled. He takes off his suit jacket for good measure, watches in amusement as the man's eyes glaze over - from Mew's neck to his arms to his hands, then back to his face. Then away again, when he notices Mew looking straight at him. Mew thinks he can see the shells of the man's ears turn red. _ Cute. _

Mew doesn’t usually take anyone home, but this - this might be the one and only exception. He's decided: he's going to get this man's name before tonight ends. And once Mew's decided he's going to do something, he's not stopping until it happens.

His moment comes when the man breaks away from his group of friends, presumably to go get a drink.

"I'll be back." He mutters to Tul, who gives him a quick smirk and a brief nod.

He sees the stranger -  _ Kitten _ , he decides to call him, for he’s as coy and shy as one - head towards the bar with confident steps. Mew leaves his own friends with knowing smiles, his path converging with Kitten’s at the bar.

“Hello, stranger.” Said stranger almost chokes on his drink, slapping his chest in surprise. His ears turn red with a speed Hermes would be envious of. Mew smirks, leaning against the bar table so he can get a closer look at his not-so-little admirer.

Kitten’s surprisingly cuter up close, all bambi-eyed and long lashes, with surprisingly plump lips.  _ Chestnut-shaped _ , that’s the adjective (maybe Chestnut is more fitting as a nickname). He’s tall too, the same height as if not a bit taller than Mew. The face of a model, and a body to match it, too.

“H-hi.” He murmurs. Very shy for how much he’d been staring at Mew this entire night. Pinches a little at his polyester shorts. It’s a set with his matching, similarly bright-coloured polyester shirt. He must play sports for a living, probably here after a team game. A football player, judging by the height of those socks. Mew’s never taken home a football player, but he’s always been one for new experiences.

“Why so shy?” Mew teases, just to get a kick out of the man. The way he’s blushing is too good to just pass up. Mew wants to see that blush spread lower - from his ears to his cheeks down to his neck and collarbones and chest. “You weren’t so shy when you were looking over just now.”

This time the stranger does choke on his drink, and Mew reaches forth in alarm, patting the man’s back as he recovers.

“I-I didn’t realize you noticed. Not until the end, at least.” Oh, the colour red is so beautiful on the apples of this man’s cheeks.

“Oh, kitten.” Mew breathes aloud, “Trust me, I noticed. And I enjoyed it. The only thing that would make it even better is if I got your name.” _ Smooth _ , Mew thinks to himself.

“It’s Gulf. Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong.” Even the last name, though he stumbles a bit on the complex pronunciation.  _ Hm, cute. _ Kitten - or Gulf, as Mew should call him (even though Kitten suits this man surprisingly well) - seems to be feeling a little more confident, because he clears his throat and asks Mew: “And you?”

Mew peers closer at the young man, moving slowly so that Gulf has a chance to stop him, if he wanted to. Though judging by the way Gulf’s pupils dilate, he’s guessing that’s not going to happen. He stops when his lips are just centimetres shy of Gulf’s skin, can almost see the goosebumps forming as he whispers into Gulf’s ear.

“Hm. I’m not sure. I think I need convincing to give out something as important as my name.”

Gulf rolls his eyes, grabs Mew’s tie with a force that contrasts with his boney, delicate hands. It’s an expensive tie but Gulf’s hands look good around it. So he’s got a little brattiness in him. Mew licks his lips unconsciously - he does like a little brat.

“Oh, and what kind, Mr. Mysterious?” Oh, Mew’s going to have such fun with this one. He curls a possessive arm around Gulf and discovers the man has quite a small waist despite his tall stature. Just the length of Mew’s forearm - perfect.

“Let me show you. Somewhere - not as public.” As much as Mew is enjoying this fun little push-and-pull, there’s a lot he wants to do that, let’s just say, isn’t exactly a view he wants to give to the public.

“The bathroom here’s nice, phi.” Gulf volunteers.  _ Trying to be useful now, is he? _

“Of course you would know.” Mew teases, but his arm keeps its controlling hold around Gulf’s waist as they make their way to the back of the bar, their bodies never separating, not even for a second.

They don’t stumble, at least not until Mew hitches Gulf up to sit on the bathroom counter and the younger man lets out a quiet gasp, visibly startled. Involuntarily reaches up to hold Mew’s biceps, knuckles protruding as he grips the strong muscle.

“O-oh. You’re strong.” He murmurs, almost to himself. Mew takes Gulf’s lower lip in between his and sucks, just to reward him for the compliment. Gulf’s lips are plump already, but Mew’s determined. He dives in with a ferocity that Gulf gladly reciprocates, and it’s like they fall into a natural pattern, messy only because of how desperate they both are.

“Mm.” Gulf makes little noises in the kiss. Though he’s not particularly loud, these vocalizations here and there are like small treasures for Mew. Gulf is so subtly receptive it’s crazy, groaning just the slightest bit when Mew gives his lip a particularly strong suck, tilting his head when Mew tries to deepen the kiss, a whine emerging from the back of his throat when Mew kneads his soft waist. Mew does love a sensitive partner.

They only part when air becomes too much of a pertinent necessity, and Mew follows the line of spit-slicked skin that trails from Gulf’s mouth to his neck to his collarbones then back to that gorgeous mouth with a reverent gaze.

Gulf must be feeling a lot more confident now, because rather than shying away he smirks, tilting his head backwards and staring seductively at Mew with hooded eyes.

“So - “ Gulf bites his lower lip, “Will you finally tell me your name?”

“Mew Suppasit, baby.” Mew lets his breath hit Gulf’s lips, watches the younger man’s chest heave up and down under the tension of the mere centimetres between their bodies. “And you’d better remember it.”

“Mew.” Gulf whispers, almost to himself. His fingers clutch at Mew’s tie, like it’s the only thing grounding him.

“Let me take you home, Gulf.” Mew hasn’t taken someone home in what feels like years, but there’s so much more he wants to do with Gulf. “Let me take you home.”

Gulf smooths his hands over Mew’s back, feeling every curve and ridge of the solid muscle underneath his palms. Smiles softly, then leans forward to nose against Mew’s ear.

“Sure, khun Mew. Take me home.”

* * *

Mew had told Gulf to ease off as he drove them home. It had seemed the gentlemanly thing to do, let Gulf have time to relax the tension out of his shoulders, maybe get prepared for what was ahead of them - the night was still young, after all.

Mew hadn’t quite expected Gulf to interpret easing off in this way. Apparently earlier Gulf was just a shadow of the brat Gulf really is, because the way he’s behaving right now, in this moment.  _ Oh gods. _ It makes Mew want to bend him over his knee and spank him until he’s red, but that’s probably thought for another time, preferably after a long discussion about kinks and consent. The conclusion stays the same though - Gulf’s a brat, no question about it.

Because at every red light and every little bit of traffic, Gulf will lean over the driver's seat, maybe smooch his cheek or nibble a little at the stubble lining Mew’s jaw. Or ask if they’re there yet, with a tone that screams _ if you don’t fuck me within the hour, I swear to gods. _

He does quiet at one point when Mew calls him kitten, but that doesn’t last very long. Next time Mew looks over, Gulf is palming himself through his pants, gaze fixated on Mew. There’s a hungry look to them, like a cat who’s got a plate of cream in their sight. His grin grows when Mew notices him, and he moans out loud “P’Meww”, drawing out the last syllable like it’s honey, sticky on his tongue.

The lights of traffic are hitting his face, casting it in an amalgam of yellow and red highlighting the slope of his cheeks and the line of his nose, gods-crafted. His lips are parted, and eyes not entirely closed, just hooded so that he can observe Mew's reaction to what he's doing.

"Fuck, Gulf" Mew doesn't think he's been so turned on before. And Gulf seems to know, if his satisfied smile is any indication.

_ Brat _ , Mew thinks.

He says so out loud, and Gulf looks at him squarely, biting his lip.

"And what are you gonna do about it?"  _ Oh, I’ll show you. _ Mew swerves into the emptiest lane, one hand on the wheel and the other clenching the flesh of Gulf’s thigh in a tight grip. It’s a painful promise.  _ You wanna play up? You wanna be a little brat? I’ll show you. _

He pulls them over on an isolated street - at least as isolated as streets can get in Bangkok - parking them exactly parallel to the curb with one hand. He pulls lightly - very lightly - at his tie just to loosen it a bit. It’s his favourite tie, but it’s getting a bit too stuffy, and not just because of the hot Bangkok weather. It all seems to take forever, with the bright lights and the traffic and Gulf shifting impatiently in the passenger seat, but Mew manages, somehow.

It’s all worth it though, because when Mew gets his hands on Gulf he knows the younger man’s a goner.

“Not so mouthy anymore, are you?” Mew teases, knowing it’ll be hard for Gulf to even form a response after he’s done with him. He palms at Gulf’s crotch, feels the slight dampness that must be from his precome. Gods, it’s so hot - how much wet Gulf must be leaking for Mew to feel it through layers of fabric, and the way his hand completely covers Gulf’s crotch. He rotates his wrist, presses the heel of his hand into the bulge. It’s a deadly move, and Gulf responds in kind, mouth slightly open in a silent moan.

Mew can feel himself harden in his dress pants even as he coaxes Gulf to his climax, the younger man surprisingly sensitive even through several layers of fabric. His legs are spread obscenely wide, his hips bucking forth into Mew’s palm wantonly, noises of complaint escaping his throat every time Mew lifts his hand just a little bit. He doesn’t stop trying even when Mew places a firm hand on his hipbone, a gentle warning.

Little brat, Mew thinks, but speeds up the motions of his hand all the same. His half-chub thickens even more as he watches Gulf writhe, chasing his orgasm with a hand over his mouth and the other roaming from Mew’s shoulder to the little hairs at the back of his neck, as if he’s unsure where to hold onto.

Gulf comes with nary a loud moan, just a little stutter of his hips and a gentle sigh. He sees the bulge in Mew’s pants too, and leans forward with a questioning look in his eyes. Mew stops him, though - because if they continued - gods, Mew probably wouldn’t be able to stop himself. He’d have to take the younger man right here right now, in this car on a very public street, in the dead of night. His cock hardens a little more at the thought. Fuck.

“Home first, kitten.” The endearment is there but his voice is tight. Gulf nods in reply, leaning back into his seat with a small smirk in his face. Mew tsks, poking his cheek.  _ Naughty kitten. _

* * *

The earlier orgasm doesn’t seem to have deterred Gulf anyway, because the second they’re out of the car he’s back on Mew, hands on his biceps and nosing hungrily at his nape, almost like a little vampire. The light scratch of his teeth against Mew’s skin, though, is more kitten-like than anything. The way Gulf paws at his back in an attempt to get a grip - even more so.

Mew thanks the gods he’d had the foresight to put out his good sheets before tonight. Once he manages to maneuvre him and Gulf to the bed, it’s heavenly sensations all around, from the smooth 800 thread-count sheets against his calves to the warm, smooth skin of the man sprawled out in front of him, back against those same sheets and legs around Mew’s hips.

The lube is in the bottom drawer of Mew’s bedside table, as it always is, though he hesitates for a good few seconds before leaving his spot between Gulf’s legs. He’s going to finger Gulf, is about to drizzle some cold lube onto his fingers before Gulf stops him. Mew doesn’t hide his surprise - to be frank, usually he’s the one taking care of his partners like that, and he hadn’t expected tonight to be any different. But Gulf - apparently Gulf already knows, already knows what Mew wants.

“I can finger myself too. Phi - phi, right? Phi can watch me.” Mew doesn’t remember exactly when they’d exchanged this piece of information about ages, but hell if Gulf calling him phi isn’t making him feel unnaturally aroused. Gulf’s hold on Mew’s wrist is loose and forgiving, and his offer is made with a quick wink.

"A brat like you offering to finger himself?"

“I’m only offering because I’m a good boy,”  _ The sort of words only true brats can say,  _ Mew thinks absentmindedly, "Besides, I saw it in the car. Phi likes watching." Gulf's definitely not wrong about that. It's endearing too, the way he wants to please Mew.

Gulf’s fingers move a little awkwardly, but he makes up for it with eagerness. He pours the cold lube onto his fingers with nothing but a little shiver. When he spreads his legs, Mew gets the faintest glimpse of a little pink hole before Gulf’s breaching with a finger, his eyes firmly focused on Mew all the while. As much as Gulf had said Mew enjoys watching (which is true), Mew thinks Gulf enjoys being watched.

As he should. It’s almost performative, the way he moves, parting and licking his lips whenever he notices Mew’s gaze on them. Adding another finger when he notices Mew’s attention to the way his hole is stretched around his fingers, taut and tight.

“You’re gonna need more than that.” Mew kisses the lobe of Gulf’s ear before whispering directly into it, head turned downwards to watch the way Gulf stutters before he adds a third finger, then, very hesitantly, a fourth. The way his rim is stretched around his fingers now is obscene, and Mew has to single-handedly unzip dress pants then pull down his boxers with how cramped they’re feeling, finally freeing his cock from its confines.

“This enough?” Gulf asks, fingers still in his hole. Mew almost moans aloud.  _ Gods _ , this man is unreal. Mew can’t trust himself to form full words so he just grunts in assent, smoothing one hand over Gulf’s thighs and the other stroking languidly at his own cock. Gulf wriggles out his touch, though, flipping himself over purposefully. On his hands and knees, he’s somehow even more of a sight than he was earlier. Mew leans back on his haunches, letting his cock slap his stomach as he tugs it.

Gulf takes one asscheek in his hand, and - oh gods he’s going to be the death of Mew - spreads it so that Mew can see all of it. His cock, his balls, his pink hole, glistening at the rim with lube. Though Gulf’s hands are pretty big, they’re not enough to cover all of his asscheek. Mew’s are, though, and he proves as much to the both of them, squishing Gulf’s ass a little harder so he can watch the way his hole contracts and relaxes, as if beckoning Mew. He barely manages to get a condom over his cock before Gulf’s back at it again.

“Come on phi.” Gulf presses his chest against the bed, moaning softly.

Just to pay Gulf back for all his teasing, Mew lets his cock drag down the crack of Gulf’s ass for a long, long moment, holding the younger man’s hips in place when he tries to rut against it. Smacks one cheek and watches the tight flesh of Gulf’s ass give a slight wobble.

“Come on” Gulf says again, and this time there’s a hint of a whine to his voice. Mew finally gives in, pressing the head of his cock past the tight rim. Then the rest of him, pushing into Gulf until his hips are as close to Gulf’s ass as possible in this position.

“You’re not deep enough, khun phi.” Gulf still complains, leaning back into Mew greedily.. Mew follows his guidance blindly, letting Gulf push him down into a seating position, putting his full weight onto Mew. Then he’s got a lapful of Gulf, and from the back, Mew can watch precisely every move. Every twitch and flutter of Gulf’s hole as Mew plows in and out of him. He presses his thumbs into Gulf’s dimples of Venus, forcing him to arch his back as much as possible, forcing him to sit prettily on Mew’s cock. This must be what the peak of pleasure feels like, Mew thinks.

He’s balls deep in Gulf, bouncing him on his lap in staccato motions. Despite all this, Gulf not only manages to look behind him but has the audacity to smirk at Mew.

“This position feels better, doesn't it, phi?” Oh, Mew’ll show him how good it can feel. Mew takes a hold of Gulf’s hips, pressing his thumbs into Gulf’s dimples of Venus until nail marks appear. Pushes Gulf down, forces him to take more than he has already, like he’s impaling Gulf with his cock.

“Mhm, kitten, sure does.” The way Gulf lurches forward and grasps at the sheets is answer enough, but Mew wants more, wants to put this little brat in his place. He grinds his hips against Gulf’s ass in a circular motion, wonders if it feels like a prostate massage on Gulf’s end.

The coil in Mew’s stomach is wound so tight, so tight. Feels like he’s about to come, but he doesn’t want to do it like this. Gulf, understandably, whines as Mew forces him off his cock, hand flailing behind him as if searching for it.

“W-what? Phi?” Mew presses a reassuring kiss to the crown of his head, a move more instinctual than anything.

“Turn around, Gulf. Wanna kiss you as you come, kitten, turn around for me.” Gulf acquiesces, the most obedient he’s been tonight. Though it’s probably out of desperation more than anything else. Gulf settles back down into Mew’s lap quickly, embracing Mew. His blunt fingernails scrabble against Mew’s back as he bounces erratically, trying to chase his climax.

“Come on, phi. Hurry up. I need to - I need to - “

Mew’s hands roam all over Gulf’s body, tracing appreciatively all over his body. Pinching his perky nipples, brushing over his moles like he’s connecting the dots as if it’ll reveal some secrets. It seems he’s found an erogenous zone, because Gulf writhes in his arms, like he’s struggling between rocking down onto Mew’s cock and pressing his chest into Mew’s hands.

“Come on, kitten.” Mew murmurs, stroking Gulf’s hips. “Come for me.”

It doesn’t take long for Gulf to come. He spurts white over both their stomachs, his hips stuttering and his thighs shaky. With the way he looks and the way his hole contracts around Mew, it’s a miracle the latter even manages to hold out for those few seconds more. It’s inevitable that Mew should lean into Gulf, breaths short and touch gentle, coming into the condom with a moan.

They keep kissing long after they’ve both climaxed, sucking and biting at each other’s lips as if it’s their last, not their first. When they finally lean back it’s with satisfied sighs, and they exchange secretive smiles before diving in for another one.

* * *

Although Gulf is around the same size as him, he somehow fits perfectly in Mew's arms. His slight frame is perfect for Mew to wrap his arms around, and so he does, squeezing the warm body in his arms. He’s used to hugging smaller bodies, but this lanky young man curls into his embrace just right.

"Actually, that’s because you’re hugging me like a koala, phi." Still. with the way Gulf fits into him, like they're two parts of the same puzzle, it doesn't feel like it. Mew noses into Gulf’s nape, drops a few impromptu kisses on the soft skin.

"Phi." Gulf says suddenly, "I'm horny again." This statement, delivered in such a matter-of-fact tone, has Mew frozen in surprise. On the other hand, Gulf hasn't moved an inch, still comfortably snuggled up in Mew's arms.

"What did you say?" Gulf turns around this time so that he's lying on Mew's chest, his soft stomach against Mew's hard abs. His eyes are wide, his lips pursed into a pout - is he  _ ngor _ -ing?

"Let's go again, phi." Mew groans. As much as he had thoroughly, thoroughly enjoyed getting Gulf off in the car and then that round of sex, he’s got to admit - he’s a bit worn out.

“I’m too tired.” He mumbles, ruffling his hair then dropping his arm to his side limply. This doesn’t stop Gulf.

“Then phi can just sit there and watch me.” Gulf says confidently.

Mew scans Gulf’s figure, imagines watching him fall apart under his own fingers. Fingers jerking his own cock loosely. Maybe in his hole, fingering himself to completion. Perhaps even pinching at his own nipples, which are still swollen and red from Mew’s earlier treatment. Mew fingers them absentmindedly as he chubs up a little.

With how they’re cuddling, Mew’s crotch against Gulf’s, the latter notices Mew’s interest almost immediately. Takes it as being one step closer to a go-ahead.

"Come on, phi. I don't mind doing the work." Gulf says, a saccharine smile on his face. "Mr. CEO can just sit back and enjoy the view.’

"I'm not the CEO, just an executive." Mew corrects, but he still makes to sit up and lean against the headboard of the bed. Eyes fixated on the lithe man getting up on the other end of the bed, body still feeling pliant from his earlier orgasm, ready for whatever Gulf has planned. “Show me what you had in mind, then.”

* * *

Turns out Gulf has quite a lot in mind. Mew cracks his knuckles softly, making sure not to move his wrists too much for fear of disturbing Gulf. Behind him, Gulf is humming something along the lines of "red and green".  _ Is it that rock song? _ Mew rotates his wrists again, just trying to relieve some of the tightness.

“Gulf...are you done?” He asks, tilting his head back. Behind him, Gulf has Mew’s burgundy tie in one hand, scrolling through Google with the other.

“Wait a second, phi, I just need to figure out the best way to tie this…” The silk of the tie is soft against Mew’s wrists, and the way it flows over his skin as Gulf tries to figure out how best to tie him down is almost relaxing. Would be relaxing, if Mew wasn't still sporting his half chub from earlier.

"Gulfff" Mew complains, shifting slightly. He thanks the gods the chair underneath him is soft and cushioned. - his ass is being to grow numb from how long Gulf's taking. Gulf giggles -  _ giggles _ \- kissing the base of Mew's neck.

"Isn't phi a businessman? Isn't patience important in business?" A sloppy kiss on Mew's ear and another giggle. Mew huffs. Sure, patience is important, but it's only important when Mew isn't buck naked in the middle of his bedroom with an extremely attractive, equally as naked young man tying him up.

"There's also this thing called opportunity risk." Mew rebuts, making grabby hands at Gulf. The latter lands a butterfly kiss on Mew - as he's been doing every time Mew complains (which is the one thing Mew definitely isn't complaining about) - and placing one of his hands in Mew's.

"Almost done, phi." Mew hums in affirmation, though this eventually becomes full-on humming. Twice's latest song has been running through his mind an obscene amount these days. A little more rustling of fabric, Gulf tapping at his phone, his hand still pliant in Mew's.

"I'm done!" Gulf finally announces, tugging at his handiwork before bounding around to observe Mew's reaction. Mew tests it himself, shaking his wrists. Feels good, not too tight, though the binding seems a bit awkward. One day he’ll have to show Gulf to proper way to do it.

"Good, phi?" Gulf asks, and Mew gives him a languid nod.

"So what do you have planned?" He drawls, leaning back so the base of his head is resting directly on top of the headrest.

"I guess phi will have to find out." Gulf takes a seat on the bed directly opposite the chair. He rubs at his thighs as if to warm himself up, and Mew wishes he could replace those hands with his own. Drags a knee towards his chest, keeping it pressed there with his forearm as his fingers find his hole.

Gulf fingers himself, except this time, there is a distinct difference in the way he does it. This time, the movement of Gulf's fingers are languid, relaxed, unlike the first time when his fingers were quick, urgent, trembling and almost unsure. Mew thinks Gulf might get off on this, this sort of power play.

With his hands tied at his back and bound to the chair, Mew sure feels helpless. It’s a feeling he’s not used to. In every part of his life, Mew is used to wielding power. In his household, where being a  _ koon chai  _ means that he’s got helpers at his beck and call. In the office, where he’s the one who gives the instructions, sometimes critiquing his workers so harshly he reduces them to tears.

Mew certainly isn't being reduced to tears in this situation, but he feels on the end of his tether, like he's going to explode - of desire, of want - to explode in the best sense of the word. It's torturous to watch Gulf spread himself open like this, especially after Mew has learned the way he looks stretched around Mew's cock, flushed and desperate.

Gulf's looking down at himself, and Mew wonders about his point of view. Does he see what Mew sees? The way his hole is spread obscenely around his fingers, the pink rim pulled taut even though Mew had fucked it so pliant earlier.

"Phi," Mew's head snaps up at the speed of lightning, Gulf's voice almost echoing in his head with how sensitive he feels, "imagine if we'd known each other before tonight. If we'd checked we were both clean." Mew moans in agreement even though he doesn't fully know what Gulf's getting at.

The younger man chuckles under his breath, and Mew watches with bated breath as Gulf swipes up the lube leaking out of him and licks it. The tapered tip of his tongue is so, so seductive, and Mew wonders what it would feel like on his cock. Gulf laughs again, and Mew's eyes meet Gulf's hooded ones. Gulf licks his finger again, this time very deliberately flicking the tip of his tongue against his finger.

“Just think, khun phi. This could’ve been your cum.”  _ Shit. What the fuck. _ Mew's brain short-circuits in what must be record time. Must be all the blood running to his cock, because it slaps up towards his stomach with a loud noise.

"Fuck, Gulf. Stop teasing me, kitten." The nickname doesn't make Gulf falter this time. Instead, he seems to relish in its vocalization like it's some sort of title, stretching his legs in front of him. Makes his way over to Mew, looms over his seated body. Gulf knows he's got all the power right now, and fuck - Mew doesn't think he's ever been this hard in his life.

“Maybe I should tease you more next time, phi.” Gulf licks the shell of his ear, sucking the pierced lobe into his mouth.

“N-next time, Gulf,” Mew pleads. He’s tense, so tense. From his calves to his thighs, from his biceps to his triceps to his hips. “For now, give it to phi. Please.”

If Gulf doesn’t give him the sweet hit of release now, Mew feels like he’s going to jump out of his own body. He lurches forth - as best as he can with his bound hands - nosing at Gulf’s cheek, the juncture of his neck, his collarbones. Anywhere, everywhere, like a desperate plea.  _ Na, nong? Your phi needs you. Please. _

In reply, Gulf collapses into his lap with a dopey smile, brain still running on those happy hormones.

"Phi's been watching me so obediently," He purrs, "how could I not give it to you?" Gulf curls a hand around Mew's cock, taking his sweet time dragging his calloused palm against the shaft of it. The pace is slow but Mew will take it, will take anything Gulf gives him at this point.

"You didn't come in me, and now you're so hard? What a waste, phi." Gulf drawls, and if Mew's hands weren't tied behind his back, he would've smacked Gulf's ass.  _ Greedy boy. _ Instead he grits his teeth, fucking up into Gulf's touch as best he can. He spills soon after, making a mess of white all over Gulf's fingers and his own stomach. Gulf milks him all through it, tugging gently at Mew's spent cock even as the man himself lets out a noise of protest, gently pushing against Gulf's chest.

"Still tired, phi?" Mew flicks Gulf's forehead for his efforts.

"Yes, I'm tired. So let's clean up quickly." Gulf gives him a lazy salute.

"Okay, phi."

* * *

“Stay.” Mew pleads before he can stop himself, and cuddled up in his arms, Gulf looks up at him in confusion. They’ve just finished cleaning up and the younger man’s skin is just the slightest bit damp from the washcloth, his previously styled hair falling in gentle waves over his eyes.

“I’m right here.” Gulf replies, pointing to himself as if to say  _ What do you mean, phi? _ But Mew means it differently.

“Like…” Mew colours. He’s not used to this, having to ask someone to do something as absurd yet pretentiously safe as stay. But there’s no questioning the feeling that overwhelms him now. Mew doesn’t quite understand the whims of his heart - all he knows is that he wants Gulf to stay.

Gulf smacks his lips, his eyes already lidded with sleep.

“I’m almost half-asleep, phi...can we talk about it tomorrow?” That’s a decidedly different kind of stay - not the one-night-sleepover Mew had implied, but something more. And for some reason, Mew doesn’t have a problem with it. So screw that, Mew thinks absentmindedly, snuggling into Gulf. Staying and other discussions - that can wait.

For now, it’s time to do what comes automatic - that is, sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> \- the song that inspired this: [AUTOMATIC](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xk7_eEx58ds)  
> \- @Mirror_ball said she wished there was more mewgulf smut on ao3 a while ago, and here i am, a whole month later LOL  
> \- drop a kudos and a comment whilst you're here ;) they're always greatly appreciated  
> \- [twitter](https://twitter.com/myu_gao)


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